oh my….the things that come into my head when I’m scrubbing the shower….oh yeah, dragons…we’re in full rape-fantasy mode on this one…~nilla~
“I said ‘stand fucking here.’ “
His voice was a rough growl, as menacing as his hand woven roughly into her hair. Giving her head a rough shake, he stopped her in the doorway.
“I’m almost done,” came a voice from by her feet. Waves of terror washed through her. There were two of them. It was midnight, or nearly so. The last warm breeze of the season fluffed the white gauze of her kitchen curtain; the only light in the space came from the nightlight under the counter by the sink. The billowing curtain held her attention, holding her mesmerized, as if by watching it she could pretend that two men were not in her house.
“Relax, you’ll enjoy it more,” whispered Hair Holder against her ear. The smell of soured beer made her nose crinkle. A hand fumbled for her breast, found it, and squeezed. Her feet moved in a small dance of hurt but the hold on her hair held her in the same place. A hand grasped her left ankle, another startling event.
“please…” she breathed out the plea.
The man kneeling behind her worked quickly, ignoring her, fastening rough rope tight around her ankle. There was a hard tug. Her leg moved closer to the inside of the door frame, followed by a soft snick–she recognized it as a carabiner. She wanted to kick out, tried to, but her free leg was caught and wrapped just as quickly.
The hand at her tit moved, found the other, mauling it. Rough fingers mashed her nipple. Short little cries came, but his mouth slipped over her lips, silencing her. When he moved away, she tried to scream but a chunk of fabric was shoved deep against her tongue, filling her mouth. She tasted the bitter tang of urine. His underpants? Before she could spit it out, his hand covered her mouth. When it moved away, she felt the stickiness of the tape he’d left behind. Her feet were spread, anchored to each side of the door frame. For a moment she deeply regretted having the door widened this spring.
She still had her hands free, and his hand wasn’t locked into her hair. She flailed out, trying to see him in the gloom of the room.
“Ah, now, none of that.”
The other man. Damn but she’d forgotten him for a moment. He stood in front of her, his tall frame blocking any light. His face was shielded by shadows, his body a dark form; she could see nothing of his features. She tried to hit his face, his torso. Hands striking wildly, bouncing off hard muscles, she panicked.
A single hand secured her two without hesitation. She felt the noose of rope slip around her wrists, as she tossed her head and muttered ‘nooooo’, though no sound other than a faint grunt came from her secured mouth. Yet in moments, she was tied tightly, her hands drawn up and over her head, the rope secured through a carabiner as she had thought. A quick clip secured her to the fat O-bolt in the center of the upper frame, a bolt that had not been there when she had gone to bed hours ago.
Hands cupped her ass, tugging her hips forward. She shook her head no, once, then again as those fingers scrolled her nightgown up and over her round bottom. From behind her came a sharp smack and her head fell forward onto the hard-muscled chest in front of her. Whinnied screams came from her nose as the first guy hit her repeatedly. It wasn’t a hand, but some sort of paddle-the sound was loud in the darkness. Rope Man held her firmly, not that she could have moved, spread and secured as she was.
It went on forever. Her ass throbbed. The burn blasted up her back, down her thighs. From far away, she felt hands on her bottom, spreading her cheeks. The cold squirt of lube was a welcome temporary relief, until she realized what was coming next. Again she tried to struggle, but her bottom was arched out, her back curved in welcome. A cock pressed against her anus, pressing until it popped through the virgin hollow of her asshole. He grunted then, fingers grasping her hips as he pressed deeper, filling her bottom with the hard stab of his penis.
Fingers probed her pussy, then raised to her face. Wet and sticky, he rubbed them across her cheek, shoved them into the base of her nose.
“Smell that? That’s you, cunt. Wanting exactly what you’re getting.”
As her eyes adjusted once more to the dark space, she could faintly see him walking away. He came closer again, but stopped. A sharp snap against her belly forced her to push back, further impaling herself on the thick cock in her ass.
Beer Breath relaxed his hold on her hips, lifting her nightgown until he hooked it up and behind her head. His hands paused momentarily on her tits, smacking them together. They made an audible clap in the silent room. His hand grabbed her hair, tugging her head back. There was a bright flash of light, the whirr of a camera.
“So you can look back and see yourself, fucked in the ass. See the look in your eyes, a mix of horror and lust.”
With a soft laugh, his fingers slid down her sides, digging once more into her hips.
Rope Man stepped closer. She thought she saw it this time, movement in the air, moments before something slashed against her tit, a rain of fire. Her ass was hot against Beer Breath, a steady throbbing ache, yet the burning of her breasts as the onslaught continued soon overtook that pain. She barely noticed that he had stopped, that he had moved close, until he sucked one tit into his wet mouth. When he bit her nipple, she screamed into the gag. The deep rumble of laughter she felt against her tender flesh. And then she felt his cock pressing against her slit.
She woke on the kitchen floor when a shaft of sunlight shimmered against her cheek. Her body hurt, crunched on the hard tile. The temperature had fallen during the night, and she shivered when the breeze blew the curtain, curling chill air across the floor. Her nipples crinkled and she moaned.
Sitting up, she looked at herself, and remembered.
Red lines ran around her wrists, her ankles. Bruises covered her tits, darkened one nipple to purple. Her thighs had bite marks, and her ass throbbed. Rising, she noted the drying puddle of sticky fluids in the center of the doorway. Her gaze took in the three bolts screwed deeply into the door frame, one low on each side, one high in the center. She shuddered, remembering more. Looking away quickly, her eyes fell onto a paper on the kitchen table.
It was on pale blue, expensive stock, but as she lifted it, she saw below it, a photo of her, the photo of her, taken during her assault. She stood there, remembering the feel of thick cock inside her ass, as she examined the picture. Her arms secured over head, shiny duct tape over her mouth. There was a silvery mark on each cheek, one she recognized as her own pussy juice that he’d wiped there. Her eyes looked full of fear, her breasts poked out, a bruise already forming on her left one. It was both horrifying and erotic. Dropping the photo, she picked up the blue paper. It was a bill from Danger Date.
She’d need to pay that, immediately.